


storm

by starbytes



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Breath of the Wild, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbytes/pseuds/starbytes
Summary: Lightning steals his breath. He gasps as it strikes, desperate, but the world around him flashes white and he can’t see or hear or think. It’s almost like falling asleep, like dreaming, and just like a dream, he doesn’t realize it until he’s awake.





	storm

**Author's Note:**

> this started as part ventfic, part botw sequel hype, but kind of developed into something a little more than that.

It feels like a storm on the horizon. Summer heat rises in his face at the same moment his hands go numb. His fingers tremble, and his pulse quickens, distant thunder shaking the ground beneath his feet; each step feels more unsteady than the last. He tries to breathe deeply, but the air is filled with dread, thick on his tongue and in his chest, something sickly clinging to his skin. His heart pounds painfully against his ribs, weakness weighing down his limbs, hair standing on end. It’s hot, too hot, and he’s going to suffocate unless something happens, unless something breaks, but he’s never prepared for when it does.

Lightning steals his breath. He gasps as it strikes, desperate, but the world around him flashes white and he can’t see or hear or think. It’s almost like falling asleep, like dreaming, and just like a dream, he doesn’t realize it until he’s awake.

Sensation is always the first to rush back to him. Something blessedly cool streams down his face and he can breathe again, chest heaving with the effort. Pain is countered by sheer relief, and his body shakes with it, but there’s an arm around his shoulders, holding him steady.

“Easy,” Zelda says softly. “Easy, Link.”

His ears twitch as the rest of his senses come back to him. Rain pelts the ripped canvas of their makeshift shelter, the rotten wood of the old wagon creaking in the wind. Their horses grunt and stamp at the ground. The trees sway, leaves rustling. The storm is passing. Link opens his eyes.

Sunlight is beginning to shine through the clouds, reflecting in the rain. It shimmers like liquid gold, and Link is struck with the urge to reach out and catch it, but the magic is gone as it touches his skin. Once clear droplets pool in his palm, muddied as they cut trails through dirt and grime. He curls his fingers in, lets the rain run in rivulets over his fingers.

* * *

_Zelda panics the first time it happens. She goes as far as to slap him, his cheek stinging when he comes back to himself, but Link does his best to comfort her as they kneel together in the shallow waters of a flooded ruin. Later, as they dry by the fire, Zelda whispers to him._

_“Are all memories like that?”_

_No, Link signs, because he can’t find his voice to tell her otherwise._

* * *

They ride in silence, but the forest sings. The birds call to one another, flittering from branch to branch and showering them with water. Every so often, a buck or a boar crosses the road in front of them, watching them warily before moving on.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls, a lonely song that makes Link ache.

Beside him, Zelda turns her head toward the sound, but he knows she isn’t afraid. Her thoughts are elsewhere, but she’s hesitating. Link wishes she wouldn’t. She’s done enough waiting.

“It’s only been two days since your last recovered memory,” she finally says, almost to herself, but she glances at him. It’s her way of giving him an out, without asking him directly, should he not want to discuss it. As always, a small smile is all the encouragement she needs. “They’re becoming more frequent.”

She looks at him again, her expression hopeful. Link tightens his grip on the reins.

“… The Citadel.”

“The Akkala Citadel?”

“My father.”

Zelda’s eyes widen.

“Your father! Oh Link, that’s wonderful!” she says, bringing her hands together in front of her. Her horse shakes his head, snorting. “You haven’t mentioned him before. I can imagine why you reacted that way, all things considered. It must be quite jarring…”

She pauses, her expression softening.

“I must admit that I didn’t know him very well, but he was a good man. He was a leader amongst the royal guard, and an exceptional knight… Just like you,” she murmurs. “He never doubted you, Link.”

* * *

_The faces and locations Link recalls in his memories are not the same as the ones he knows now. The people are gone, their fates lost to time, names forgotten. The places are crumbling shells of what they once were, stripped to their foundations and reclaimed by wilderness._

_In his memory, the Citadel isn’t in ruins. It stands tall and proud – an impenetrable fortress. The great hall is warmly lit and busy with soldiers bent over their suppers. There’s music, singing and laughter. In his memory, Link sits next to a window overlooking the parade grounds, his stew untouched in his hands._

_“Aryll speaks of nothing else these days. Her brother, the Hero of Hyrule, and the princess’ appointed knight!” Link turns his head away as his father offers him another drink, wincing as a heavy hand claps him on the back. He hurriedly sets his bowl on the table before hiding his shaking hands in his lap. “Don’t hold back now, my boy. You’ll soon have your hands full with Princess Zelda!”_

_His gaze softens as he looks at his son, eyes shining with pride. He doesn’t mention the stiff set of Link’s shoulders, or the thin line of his lips, but he lowers his voice._

_“You’re young still, but you’ve been given a great responsibility... You weren’t chosen only by that sword on your back. The King and his daughter are counting on you. Our people are counting on you. This is your destiny, Link. I know you’ll make us proud.”_

_He laughs and raises his drink. The others notice and raise their drinks high, shouting Link’s name, singing his praise, his father loudest of all._

_“To my son, the Hero, Link!”_

_“To Link!”_

_Link fumbles to accept the tankard being pushed into his hands as the memory fades. When he opens his eyes, Zelda has taken his father’s place, but his throat still burns._

* * *

Zelda spends most of their time in Akkala at the lab with Robbie. Link goes to Tarrey Town.

He doesn’t need to her permission to leave, but still he asks. Zelda has told him, time and time again, that he’s free to do as he pleases: he is no longer a knight of the royal guard, bound by duty to watch her every move. If she finds it as annoying as she did a century ago then she hides it well, but Link doesn’t miss the hesitation each time she tries to dismiss him. There’s relief in the way her body relaxes, as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, but something equally as heavy settles in his chest as they approach the lab. Zelda notices.

“We’ll meet at the stable in two days,” she says, worrying her lip. “Please be careful, Link…”

He tries not to grimace as he imagines a terrible red glow and the lone voice lost in the screams of monsters. He shivers in the morning sun.

Tarrey Town hasn’t changed much since his last visit, but there’s an air of excitement. The people breathe easier, laugh louder, completely unaware of what Link has done but thriving in the aftermath. He learns that Hudson and Rhondson are expecting their first child, and that Fyson’s mother wants a grandchild of her own.

“We may have a small herd of children here the next time you visit,” Hudson says with a smile. “You have a lot left to do, don’t you?”

_Always_ , Link signs. He has no other answer.

Kapson gives him good food and a warm bed. They spend the evenings talking about everything and nothing, though the topic often strays to the Domain and Prince Sidon. Link wants to see him, maybe dare him to a diving competition from Shatterback Point. He hopes Zelda will allow it, smiling as he watches the sun set beyond Death Mountain.

But not even Sidon, larger than life and as luminous as the stones in his Domain, can illuminate the shadow the Citadel casts.

* * *

_Zelda is the first to mention his sister. She’s surprised Link hasn’t remembered her, nor the rest of his family, but Link just shakes his head. He goes months knowing his father only through the passing mentions in his memories. His mother and sister are even more of an enigma to him, and if there wasn’t another person to tell him they were real, he might believe them to be figments of his imagination, a fantasy created in dark nights spent alone._

_He doesn’t know them, but he pictures his mother with long, dark hair and blue eyes. He thinks of her most often in the forests as his fingers sink into cool earth. When he thinks of her, he feels something wild in his heart, feels the thundering of hooves and wind through manes – a free spirit, unbound._

_His sister is much the same, but her image is strongest next to the streams and on the beaches where water laps at his feet, the sand hot beneath him. He thinks he might hear her laugh in the calls of seagulls and the rush of waves. Her smile is as bright as the sun._

_His first real memory of her is not as warm._

_Hyrule Castle Town is bustling with activity. The streets are crowded and the shops are busy. The flowers are in bloom. Link waits by the great fountain, back straight, eyes forward. He’s trying not to pace, each step jostling the sword on his back. He knows he’s being watched._

_The feeling only grows. His heart beats faster. There’s a rustling to his left._

_He tenses, fingers twitching._

_Water soaks his royal guard uniform as Aryll splashes down into the water beside him._

_“Yahaha! I’ve found you, Hero!” she roars, wielding a wooden sword. She smacks her brother’s arm with it, laughing. “The Calamity has you!”_

_Link scrambles back, staring down at his uniform, stained with dirty fountain water. Behind him, two elderly women laugh softly at the display. Link’s stomach churns._

_“Aryll,” he whispers severely, but Aryll isn’t listening. She waves her sword, holding it high above her head._

_“The Hero is defeated!” she cackles, grinning at him, but she falters as he reaches out and snatches the toy from her grip. She lets out a cry of protest and scrambles out of the fountain, splashing more water over the side. “Give it back, Link! I’ll tell Papa!”_

_She raises her voice. Link glances around, his face hot as he catches sight of the women. There’s disapproval on their faces._

_“Link!”_

_He turns sharply as he feels a tug on the Master Sword, ripping its scabbard from Aryll’s hands. He grabs hand, guiding her away from the fountain, and she struggles, planting her heels. She’s on the verge of tears now, and Link knows he must get her away, that he has to get away from their eyes—_

_He stops abruptly as Aryll trips over a loose stone. She falls, her hand finally slipping from Link’s, but she doesn’t cry out, even as she draws her scraped knees to her chest. Link quickly drops the wooden sword and kneels in front of her, but she bows her head, his hands hovering over her shoulders._

_“You wouldn’t let me touch the Master Sword last time we played,” she murmurs. She still isn’t looking at him. “You said it wasn’t a toy and I could get hurt. It chose you.”_

_She stumbles over the word, sucking in a harsh, watery breath. When she finally raises her head, she isn’t crying. Her eyes are glossy, but there are no tears on her cheeks._

_“I hate that sword. You’re supposed to be my brother. You weren’t supposed to change. I hate you!”_

* * *

Zelda doesn’t question him when he suggests pressing on to Kakariko Village, forfeiting a night at the Wetland Stable. Link thinks she’s just as uncomfortable being this close to Hyrule Castle as he is. Perhaps the air is just as stifling for her, still full of lingering rot and an oppressive force that makes their eyes water and their appetites less.

“I’d like to speak to Impa about my research,” she says, “so it makes sense to spend a night or two…”

She smiles at Link.

“We can head to Hateno from there. I’ll be spending a lot of time with Purah, but I’ll rest easier knowing you’ll have the comforts of home while you wait. I’m sure Bolson will be glad to see you, too, and the children! You seemed quite popular when we last visited. One of them was very enthusiastic about weapons… What does he think of the Master Sword?”

Link thinks of small hands and bloodied knees.

* * *

There’s rain on the wind, but Zelda is eager to make it to Purah’s lab after leaving Kakariko, her short hair whipping around her ears as they ride.

“I would have asked for your help, but I think Paya was the right choice here. No offense,” she says, laughing. She closes her eyes and lifts her head against the wind. “This length will be much easier to maintain as we travel. Father would have disapproved, of course, but… I’m not the same person as I was. This Hyrule is beyond my time. I feel almost like a guest here... Am I still deserving of my title? Even after all that has happened…”

She slows her horse as they approach Blatchery Plain. The Guardians there are still, free of Ganon’s influence, the rusted husks of their bodies yielding to the wild. This isn’t the first time they’ve been here, but it is the first time Zelda pauses. The wind picks up. Link takes a deep breath.

“Goddess willing, I will do what I can to help our people and bring Hyrule back to greatness, but can I harness this power once again to help us do it? Can I be trusted with it? A queen building new foundations upon bones…”

Link dismounts as Zelda does, following her until the tall grass brushes against their thighs. Zelda holds out a hand, letting the blades weave through her fingers as she approaches a Guardian. She stops in front of it, and though Link’s feet suddenly feel like lead, he comes to stand beside her. There’s a subtle tremble in his hands as he lifts them.

_There is also life_ , he signs. He points to the legs of the Guardian, half buried beneath the soil, covered in moss and clovers. Flowers grow at the base. Zelda smiles, sniffling, and raises a hand to her eyes.

“Yes, there is life,” she says. She reaches for his hand, and he’s grateful he’s wearing gloves to cover his clammy palms. He takes another breath.

They turn, leaving the Guardian behind, but light flashes to his right. Metal creaks with a gust of wind. Link’s hand is numb in Zelda’s. He’s breaking out in a cold sweat. His chest burns.

He makes to draw his sword as he whirls around to face the Guardian. For a moment, he sees it looming over them, its glowing red designs stark against the darkening sky. Its single blue eye stares down at him, locked onto his chest. Its warning signal matches the rapid beating of his heart.

He doesn’t have Daruk’s protection, or Revali’s means of quick escape. He can’t snap his fingers to call down Urbosa’s fury. Mipha isn’t there to steal him back from death. He has nothing, only Zelda, _Zelda_ , burnt and bleeding, failed by him once more.

He opens his mouth to scream.

“ _Link!_ ”

He opens his eyes.

Zelda is alive in front of him. She’s afraid, but she’s alive, and unhurt. The rain comes second.

“Link…” Zelda says again, cupping his cheek. “I’m sorry, I—!”

Link croaks out a protest, shaking his head, but it _hurts_. His entire being hurts, consumed by a phantom fire that burns in his head and his lungs. He’s still tensed in preparation, skin prickling, but the pain begins to fade, and it doesn’t return. The beam never reaches them.

He chances looking around.

The Guardian lays where it fell a century ago, the ground around it unbroken. It hasn’t moved. Its eye is dark. Beside it, a firefly briefly glows, then disappears.

Zelda draws his head back.

“Link? Was it a memory? I—I must have triggered it, coming here,” she says. She’s sick with guilt, Link can see it in her eyes and the tremble of her lips. He shakes his head again, and when the world doesn’t tilt, he reaches up to tug on a short strand of hair.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, offering her a small smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but he wants to give her _something_. Something, because he can’t answer her question.

Something, because the line between memory and reality is blurring.

Zelda mirrors him with a watery smile. She pulls him to her, holding him. Link doesn’t have the strength to pull away.

They eventually get to their feet, cloaks dripping. Link’s legs are weak beneath him, and he continues to shake, but Zelda supports him, riding close as the backtrack to the stable.

Link glances over his shoulder more than once, but the Guardian doesn’t follow them.

The fear does.

* * *

The sun has yet to rise when Zelda knocks on his door. She’s been holed up in Purah’s lab for three days, and though he’s brought her plenty of food and gotten reports from Purah that she has, in fact, slept, Link can’t shake the dread that eats away at him as he waits. It slams into him like a Moblin club when she wakes him, stumbling down the stairs to let her in.

“I’ve found something,” she says, breathless. There’s a certain look about her, and Link can’t tell if it’s excitement or fear.

Perhaps it’s merely his own reflected in her eyes.

“Link, we have to go back to the castle.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> i've got a [tumblr.](https://starbytes.tumblr.com)


End file.
